To save the world
by MamboKings
Summary: When a girl from the past is transported from Hiro to NY in '06, she has no idea what to do. Now she plays a major role in saving the world and comes across all sorts of evils. At least she has Peter there to help her, but will that be enough?
1. Little Runaway

This is what would happen if a girl from the past was sent to the future and met up with Peter and goes through first season to whenever I end it. This idea came to me and I am very excited about it, mostly because it gives me an excuse to watch first season over again. The first part is a little slow, but it gets better.

Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes… Yet! (Lets out evil laugh and then runs away)

**Chapter One: Little Runaway**

We were eating dinner when my brother Jack interrupted something he was telling to stare at me with his sharp blue eyes.

"Mom, does she have to make so much noise when she eats?"

Now my sister Stacey looked at me, too, with that expression that began as a smile and ended as a grimace.

"It isn't that much noise," She said. "It's the way she chews with her mouth open." Stacey shuddered delicately and turned away.

My mother, serving herself last with the smallest pork chop, did not even look up.

"Try to be more ladylike, Beth," My mother said quietly.

I, the youngest child, should have been used to such remarks as these from Jack and Stacey and my mother-I heard them everyday-but I never get used to them.

Years ago, when Stacey was in third grade, before I had even started school, I used to think that, when you were in third grade, you were almost grown up, and now here I was, nearly ready for eight (if I was lucky-If God was good), and still they all treated me like a baby, a stupid baby.

The humiliated tears scalded my eyes, and I could not swallow past the lump in my throat. I reached jerkily for my glass of milk; it tipped over, and the milk ran across the table and dripped slowly on the floor.

"Beth, go get the mop," My mother said tiredly, as if bored.

"Pig!" Exclaimed Stacey.

The mop was too dry to do an effective job. I spent several minutes pushing the milk over the floor. The floor had the ugliest pattern in the world covering it-white and orange flowers like unwholesome cauliflowers with blue leaves, set in dingy brown squares. There was no use, my mother had told my Aunt Jessie just the other day, getting a decent rug for the dining room until I was older and less clumsy.

"I hate you, you damn old stinking floor," I muttered, no one paid attention now. Jack had gone on with his narrative: my mother and father and Stacey listening to him as if he was telling the meaning of life.

After I put back the mop, I did not return to my place as the table. Instead I slowly walked through the dining room, past the heaped bowl of intoxicatingly perfumed strawberries on the sideboard, and out the door.

"Beth Johnson," My father called, "Strawberries!" It was a passion we shared. Some people liked strawberries-my father and I were crazy about them.

"I don't want any any," I said.

"Oh, come now," He said. I can see him just as he looked there at the table in his putting a coaxing smile on over the worry wrinkles. My father was a rather small man, with skinny arms and legs and the beginning of a little paunch. He covered his bald spot by putting his thinning black hair over it. He was once, my mother told me several times, a very handsome man.

"Oh come now," He repeated. "Strawberries!"

As I stood in the doorway, staring at them all through my tears, I saw my mother's chin was trembling ever so slightly, as it did when she was distressed. But she said nothing: not one of them spoke another word to me. And I turned and went through the hall and the stairs-slowly, for it seemed impossible that they could all just sit there and inflict this cruelty on myself. But they did-even my father.

In my room-mine and Stacey's truly-I shut the door and stood with my back against it for a long time, staring at me sister's neatly made bed with the prissy pink ruffle, just so, and her childhood doll, Claire d'Lune, sitting against the ruffles, smiling arrogantly. There was something about Claire d'Lune that infuriated me, with her pink enameled cheeks, her stiff curls, untouched by anything but distant admiration. She was like a fake bon-bon.

I threw myself on my lumpy bed, felt around for the lump that was my ancient Teddy Bear, and held him close to me. I had almost lost him not long ago.

"Mother," Stacey had wailed. "Does she have to have that mangy horrible thing in my room all the time? I'm ashamed to have me friends up here."

I had scoffed and muttered, "What friends?" No one heard me.

My mother had promised me a lovely doll like Claire d'Lune if I would give the Teddy to some poor child (a euphemism for burning him up). I had cried, screamed, threatened to run away. And so I still had him, for at least a little while anyway.

I was going to take him with me when I went to the Bundleys', and I was going now, this evening.

I got up and, from under the bed, pulled out the old straw suitcase I had rescued from the trash heap when Mother did her spring-cleaning. She didn't know, yet, that I kept it under the bed, with some of my father's old Oz books in it, and some smooth round rocks, and a piece of faded velvet ribbon and a bunch of shabby flowers ripped from a hat, and an ancient pincushion leaking sawdust, and a glass doorknob. I am always in awe of how much junk I can fit underneath it.

I debated about taking the Oz books (some of the pages were missing). Finally, I put them way back under the bed. They had plenty of books at the Bundleys'.

Having no children of their own, the Bundleys' did not know I was too old to be read aloud to anymore, especially from a book of fairy tales, and when I stayed with them, Mr. Bundley read to me every night.

The packing went quickly now. My Teddy bear; my beloved, outgrown rabbit slippers; my pink pillow that Grandma had given me for Christmas-all found a place in my suitcase.

I picked up the small hand mirror and looked in it, troubled, as I was sometimes troubled these days. I saw myself in it-thin face, black hair cut in a straight bang, teeth that were overly large. I envied Stacey for her looks.

Replacing the mirror, I went to the closet and hesitated before the row of neatly ironed dresses. They were hand-me-downs from Stacey. They mostly had thick-turned up hems and awkward tucks here and there, and I hated the lot of them. Anyway, I wouldn't need them at the Bundleys'. My overalls were enough until I reached my destination.

For a moment, I dreamed of the dresses Mrs. Bundley's had made for me, picturing them hanging in my small closet in the room they had set aside just for me.

There was the crisp watermelon-colored dress; you could actually smell and taste the freshly spit watermelon when you looked at it.

"Look Tom," Mrs. Bundley had said. "Doesn't she look like a little fairy?" And they had both admired me, thin little Mr. Bundley and stout Mrs. Bundley. Later, hanging the dress away in tissue paper, Mrs. Bundley had said in her rich enchanting voice, which is sometimes the gift of stout woman, "It's alright to wear hand-me-downs sometimes, but every little girl should have her own new little dresses too."

I could see the other dresses hanging beside the watermelon dress. One was brown and white with a big collar; with red and black polka dots like a ladybug's wings; and an embroidered "Beth" at the bottom.

Something about the brown and white dress troubled me. There had been a little girl named Irene in first grade who wore a dress like than wit her name embroidered in it. And there had been a square, tow-headed little boy named Jimmy who was the Farmer-in-the-Dell, and when he came to choose a wife, I had prayed, the prayer bursting in my chest, "Choose me." But he had not even looked at me. He had chosen the child named Irene.

Quickly I close the suitcase, snapped the locks shut, and began to pull it after me, out the door, down the back hall, down the stairs, across the back lawn.

The hole in the hedge of the garden where I usually went through was too small for the suitcase; I could hardly get it under. I was still tugging and pushing-twilight was coming now, and it was quite dark under the hedge-when my father called.

"Beth Johnson, where are you going?" I looked up and saw him hurrying across the lawn.

I have a violent push, got the suitcase under and began to wriggle myself under.

"You don't care!" I cried. "Nobody does!" I had stretched myself under the hedge and wriggled until I was on the other side.

I picked up my suitcase and ran down the street. I heard my father cursing and I saw him running after me. He was faster than me and I knew that I was not going to win.

Suddenly, I heard nothing. The birds stopped singing their songs, the wind ceased blowing on the trees, there was no sound heard. I turned around and saw my father frozen. His mouth was open wide and one of his eyes was shut. The sight would have been comical if I wasn't afraid out of my wits.

Cautiously, I approached him. I poked him, he felt warm, but he was not breathing.

"Daddy?" I squeaked.

"He can't hear you." I heard from behind me and quickly turned around. There was a man there dressed in strange clothes. I recognized that he was oriental, though I had only seen one before this.

"What-what do you mean?"

The man smiled and bowed slightly. "I stopped time."

I laughed. It sounded like something Jack would tell me when I was young enough to believe it. His face turned stern when he saw me though.

"You are lying to me!" I exclaimed and I felt my heart beating against my chest.

The man shook his head. "My name is Hiro Nakamura I am from the future. My ability is to stop time."

"Stop time? You're from the future?" I snorted. Being able to stop time was only something you read in comics, nothing more.

"I need you to help save the world, Elizabeth Ann Johnson," Hiro told me.

"Save the world?" My voice was as high pitched as they come. "I can't, I can't save the world! How in God's name am I supposed to save the world?" Panicked tears were now falling down my cheeks.

Hiro approached me and took my shoulders and looked straight in my eyes. "You need to, Beth, or everyone you know will die," He sighed and looked at his watch. "I am going to give you to this man, his name is Peter in the future. He doesn't know about you, or me for that matter, yet. You must convince him to let you stay with him."

I continued to cry. "I don't want to leave. Please, just leave me alone!"

He seemed unfazed by my sobbing. "If you don't come with me, your parents will die."

"No," I whispered.

"Your brother and sister."

"No."

"Everybody on Earth will die if you do not come with me."

"No!" I yelled, and took a deep breath. "I will come with me. But how will I go in the future?"

"I am going to take you there," He shut his eyes and scrunched up his face.

Suddenly, I found myself in the middle of a busy street. There were large signs displaying advertisements of restaurants and stores.

Hiro bent down to me, noticing my amazed expression.

"Welcome to New York City, Beth. The year is 2006."

So how was it? This idea came to me and it just took me over. I don't like this chapter too much, but it will be getting better. Everyone who reviews get a virtual cupcake!

Life is your oyster; too bad you are allergic to shellfish,

crockergirl


	2. Meeting

Thank you for the reviews! I really appreciate them and virtual cupcakes to everyone! Yeah!

On another note, thanks for the information about Oysters, I truly didn't know that.

Disclaimer: If I owned Heroes, then why would I be writing fan fiction?

**Chapter Two: Meeting**

"2006?" I asked, dazed. Everything was different than what I knew. The cars were so sleek and so fast, it was amazing. On the streets were people of every color, the Negro's, Orientals, whites, and they were all whizzing past me. The women were in pants, even though they were not working and some even had tattoos. One woman that walked by me had blue hair. Blue hair!

Hiro nodded. "Yes. We are in Time Square."

"Time Square, in New York City. To save the world from something bad that won't happen since I am here," I repeated, trying to digest all the information that I was given.

Hiro grabbed my arms and whistled and hailed a taxi. The taxi driver was an Indian man and Hiro smiled softly when he saw him, though said nothing that indicated he knew him.

"Hello," Hiro said.

"Hello, where do you want to go my friends?" The man answered back, glancing at us and smiling at me.

To my surprise, the man had a somewhat British accent rather than the Indian I had expected.

Hiro gave him some directions, but I was so focused on what was outside the dingy window that I paid no attention. Everything was so bright, so loud and there was litter all over the streets. I grinned inwardly, knowing that my mother would have a fit if she had to be here. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sadness.

I tugged on Hiro's sleeves. "Um, Mr. Hiro, sir-"

"Just Hiro will be fine Beth," He said, and I could tell that he was amused of how flustered I was.

"Okay, Hiro," I started again. This time I whispered, just to make sure that the taxi driver wouldn't hear what I was saying. "What will my parents think will happen to me? Will they think I ran away, or kidnapped or what?"

"Your parents will find you missing. They will not know what to think, however I am confident that they will make their own conclusions soon enough." He informed me quite simply.

I felt a pang of guilt. They may get me upset, but I do not want them to think any harm came to me. I could just picture mother, sobbing while calling the police to come find me. My father would not speak for hours at a time, as he usually did when tragedy struck us. Jack and Stacey would feel bad too, I bet you. Sure, I might get on their nerves at times, but I have always known deep down that they loved me.

Before I knew it, the taxi stopped and Hiro led me to a large apartment building. The outside was made of old brick and had graffiti scattered around it.

"This is where Peter lives?" My eyes wandered to the cuss words written on the walls and felt a lump form in my throat. "Here?"

Hiro nodded and we went down a large hall until we stopped at a door.

"This is it," Hiro said. "Peter will guide you and protect you. You can trust him with your life. He might be skeptical at first, but he will accept you, I am sure."

My mind was filled with so many questions and I could feel my face grow redder.

"Should I tell him the situation though? About how I come from the past?"

He thought about it for a moment before answering. "Yes."

"When?"

Hiro gave a small shrug. "That is up to you.

Again, Hiro looked at his watch and gave an apologetic smile. "I must leave or I might disrupt the space time continuum. Good luck."

He was about to leave, but I held onto his sleeve. "Will I ever see you again? In the future I mean?"

"Maybe. Good bye and good luck."

And with that, he scrunched up his face again and poof, he was gone. I looked back at the door and whimpered. In the room that was past it, held the man that would help me save the world, _the entire world_.

I managed to get my hand up to the door, as if I was going to knock, but it refused to move an inch. I looked at it, willing it to move, but all I saw was it shake with fear. Angry tears came soon after. How dare Hiro think that I could handle this? I'm only a kid for god sakes! I cringed, if mother was here she would punish me for using God's name in vain.

I gathered all of my courage, which I found was very little, and knocked.

No response. Panic came yet again. Maybe he wasn't home, or Hiro had made a mistake and it wasn't the right person. What would happen to me then?

I knocked again.

I heard someone murmur, "Hold on a second."

After about fifteen second, he opened the door and I inhaled a deep breath. In front of me was a man that had to be no older than twenty-five. He was so young and scrawny; he could not protect an ant! Surely this could not be Peter!

"Do you need anything?" The man asked.

I shook my head and frowned. "No, I don't think so. You aren't Peter, are you?"

The man looked at me and nodded. "Yes, I am," Peter gazed at me with scrutiny. "How do you know my name?"

I was shaking again and felt my breathing increase with each second. "My name is Elizabeth Ann Johnson and I need your help to save the world."

Peter looked at me like I was crazy and looked down the hall, to see if someone put me up to this. He laughed a little. "Save the world?"

I nodded and saw him heading to close the door. "I'm not crazy! A man named Hiro teleported me here and told me to find you so you could help me save the world."

"Teleported?" Peter asked and stopped moving completely. "As if he had super human powers? Like flying"

I nodded; maybe he would believe me after all.

There was some racket coming from the other room and I turned my attention over there. There was a string of cussing and screams and my eyes widened.

Peter seemed to notice it too and sighed. "Do-do you want to come in?" Clearly, he was as overwhelmed by this information as I was.

"Yes, thank you."

I went into his apartment and he closed the door behind him, locking it. His apartment was slightly larger than my living room at home. There were two doors that probably led to the bathroom and the bedroom. I saw the couch and concluded that it was most likely the living room. The walls were a nice blue with pictures all over it and a wooden desk.

"You have a TV," I observed quietly. I was in awe. Mother had insisted that a TV was out of the budget and that we had a perfectly good radio. My Uncle John had a TV and I would spend hours watching it, much to the frustration of Mother

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and looked at me oddly. "Yeah… How old are you, Elizabeth?"

"Oh, just Beth please. My parents only call me Elizabeth when they are mad at me. I just turned thirteen."

"Where are your parents, Beth?"

I looked down. "They are gone."

"I'm sorry," He said quietly. "But won't someone be looking for you? A grandparent, an aunt or uncle maybe?"

I," I felt my knees go wobbly from my nervousness. There was a red couch next to me and I looked at it longingly. "Can I sit down on the couch please?"

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry."

I sat down, feeling much better. "I am from the past. I was born in San Francisco, California in 1942. Hiro sent me here, to the future. If any of my family members are still alive, they have long stopped their search for me."

There was an awkward pause. I could see Peter stare at my clothing seeing if it looked old enough to be in the fifties. I looked down also. I was wearing my hand-me-down overalls and the plain white t-shirt that Aunt Sue gave me for Christmas.

"The past?" He croaked out.

"Yes. I have only been in 2006 for about thirty minutes," My voice faded off. "It is very different from what I know."

"How do I know that you are telling the truth? There are a lot of strange people in New York. Do you have any powers like you told me the man had?" Peter said the last part with excitement, maybe hoping that I could show him what I can do.

I shrugged. "I don't know how to prove to you that I am from the past. I don't think I have any powers either. To be honest, I have no idea how I will save the world, only that it needs to be saved."

This seemed to enough for Peter.

"Do you have anywhere to stay?" Peter asked.

"No, I do not." I was distressed. Maybe he would not let me stay. Maybe I did not give him enough evidence and he thought I was just a loon who happened to knock on his door.

Peter sighed yet again. "Do you want to stay here?"

I felt a rush of gratitude and an urge to hug him. "Yes, sir, thank you very much."

"Just Peter will be fine," There was a pause and we both looked around the apartment, not sure what to do next. "Are you hungry?" He asked.

"Oh no," I said, my mind recalling to the incident that happened earlier than evening. "I am not," He looked slightly disappointed. "Are you?"

"No, I just had some pizza."

"Right…." I smiled a little. "Can I turn on the TV?"

"Oh, yeah."

I got up and went to the TV. "My Uncle gets NBC and ABC. Is that what you get?" When I reached the TV, I was confused. Instead of knobs like I was expecting, there were little buttons that were the same silver color as the TV.

"Here in the, well, future," He said that slowly. "We can have over hundreds of channels if we get the right plan. But those are too costly, I just have about fifty."

My mouth went open wider, as did my eyes "Fifty?"

He nodded and smiled. Only this smile was different than something I had never seen. Only half of his smile was upwards, the rest staying down as if he was frowning. "You really are from the past, huh?"

"What happened to your mouth? Why does it only half smile?" I blurted out. There seemed to be no filter between my mouth and brain these days.

"Oh," He touched his own mouth. "It's been like that since I was a baby. I was born with it. It doesn't hurt or anything."

I nodded and continued to push random buttons until I managed to turn on the TV. I gasped loudly when I saw that it was in color and had better picture than my uncle ever had.

"You know," Peter said, taking a piece of plastic with buttons on it and giving it to me. "You don't have to get up. You can just use the control."

I took it from his hands and pressed a button that was on its side. Suddenly, the volume went up. I pushed the other button that was adjacent to it and the volume went down.

"Amazing," I breathed in. There was a cartoon on the television, a small yellow thing, maybe a piece of cheese? A starfish with pants on was talking to the cheese about _jelly fishing_. Did people in this time hunt for jellyfish? I know that when I went in the ocean and saw a jellyfish, the last thing I wanted to do was to hunt it.

"What program is this?" I asked.

"Spongebob."

I laughed and Peter joined me.

"What a queer name for a cartoon."

"I suppose," He leaned closer to me, as if telling a secret. "It's really meant only for kids, but it's a guilty pleasure."

"Peter, do you have a power like Hiro?" I said, too curious to keep it in any longer.

He nodded and bit his lower lip a bit. "I think so. I-I think I can fly."

"Fly? That's so boss!"

"Boss?" He raised one of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, boss," I paused and suddenly felt very sad. "You do not use the word boss here do you?"

"No. We also only use _queer_ as another word to say that someone is gay."

"Happy? Why would you say someone who is happy is queer?" I was confused.

Peter frowned. "No, queer as in liking someone of the same gender."

I felt my cheeks go hot. "Oh, wow. That is very different than how I use it."

"I'm sure."

I felt the need to change the subject before I used more embarrassing lingo. "So… What's been happening for the fifty-one years I haven't been here?"

Peter sat down next to me and turned off the TV. He old me of the president's that had come and go, at least the ones he could remember. There were a lot of details about Nixon, Watergate and Deep Throat. Finally, and with a deep breath, he told me about what happened on September 11, 2001.

"Why-why," I stumbled through my words. "Why would somebody do that? Attack America, like that?"

"I don't know. They killed a lot of people. Some people think that's the reason that our President got us into war."

I gulped. "War?"

"Yeah. The war has been going on for a few years. It's in the Middle East."

"Wow, things have changed, and I don't think for the better." I felt so homesick at that moment. I wanted to go back to California, see my family and give them a big hug and let them know I was alright.

My eyelids were growing heavy and I let out a yawn. I tried to make it small, wanting to hear about more things that had happened, but Peter caught it.

"Are you tired?"

"A little, but please keep going. What happened after the terrorist attacks?"

Peter shook his head no. "You've been through a lot tonight Beth, you need some sleep."

"I don't have any pajama's." I muttered in my embarrassment.

"Stay here," And he went to the door on the left and, moments later, came out with a t-shirt and shorts.

"The t-shirt is big, even for me so it should fit. The shorts, I'm not sure about. I used to wear it for PE in high school. I was really tiny back then."

I smiled. "Thank you. Where is the bathroom?" He pointed to the door on the left and I changed into the pajamas as fast as I could, rolling my old clothes into a ball. The t-shirt went down to my knees, and the shorts were almost at my ankles.

"Better than my overalls," I thought before going out. Peter thought the same thing. He then disappeared in his room.

I was rearranging the blankets on the sofa when Peter came back in and stopped me.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

I glanced around and said really slowly. "I'm setting up the sofa so I can go to sleep."

He furrowed his brow and shook his head. "I'm sleeping on the sofa, you are sleeping in the bed. I just changed the sheets."

"No, I can't put you out like that. You have done enough, letting me stay and all."

"Nonsense. You are a guest, you sleep in the bed." He made a grand gesture to his room and to his bed. It was large, like mother and father's, and looked really comfortable, compared to the narrow, lumpy sofa.

"Are you sure it's okay with you?"

"It's _righto _with me, Beth." He responded.

I looked back at him and gave raised my eyebrows, a small smile playing on my lips. "Are you mocking me, Peter?"

"Just a little. Good night, Beth."

"Good night, Peter." I told him and went in the bed. Slowly, I went to sleep, dreaming of talking cheese.

So, how was it? I personally love the last line. Please, review! It helps me update ten times faster! Also, before anyone asks me, this is **NOT** a romance. I mean, she's only thirteen for goodness sakes!

I wondered where the ball was and then it hit me,

crockergirl


	3. Nathan

Thank you so much to marinawings for the review, the only review. I see that I have so many people reading, which I love don't get me wrong, but not many people review. I love reviews and they encourage me to write the chapters faster. Please review if you could. I accept anonymous ones to.

Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes.

**Chapter Three: Nathan**

When I awoke, I felt disoriented. I looked around the room and instantly knew that it was not the quant little bedroom Stacey and I shared. Then, the memories of all that took place yesterday flooded me. I laughed quietly to myself, how could I forget that? I looked at the clock that was on the bedside table and it read ten o'clock. How could I have slept in like that? I had always bragged about how I was such an early riser.

I got up from the bed and felt my hair. It had gotten messy from sleep and some hair escaped my ponytail. I wondered if Peter had a brush. He had those long bangs, surely he must. Taking off the ponytail holder, I gathered all of my hair and put it in a bun. There were several knots, but it would have to do.

When I got to the living room, I saw Peter on the couch, eating cereal and watching TV.

He saw me and smiled. "You're finally awake."

"Yes," I blew some air on my bangs. "I don't know why I slept in so long. It is very queer," My cheeks went hot, remembering the conversation we had about our different lingo last night. "I mean it is very _strange_."

Clearly, he remembered the conversation to and chucked a little. "Not really. There's a three hour time difference from California to New York," He paused, as if he was thinking. "I think it has always been like that, even in the fifties. I'm not sure."

"So to me," I counted on my fingers to make sure I got the right math. "It would feel like seven o'clock. That sounds about the time I usually wake up."

"Do you want some cereal?"

I shook my head. "I'm not too hungry."

Peter turned his attention back to the TV. There was an old guy who was with an over-weight, middle-aged woman. They were standing near a colorful wheel and it was going around and around. Numbers-amount of money they could get, perhaps-were displayed and the middle-aged woman groaned when it only reached one hundred. A hundred dollars was a very good sum of money, why was she upset by it?

It was so peculiar that someone was ungrateful for a hundred dollars. I was happy when I got five dollars, I could buy so much candy at the store corner a block away with five dollars. I wondered how much it costs now to rent an apartment, or buy a house. I had heard tales from my cousin that buying land in New York City was the most expensive thing you can do.

I got to thinking, shouldn't Peter be at work? He must have a good paying job to buy something in this city. When Hiro teleported me here, it was a Wednesday. Don't people in 2006 work on the weekdays?

"Peter, can I ask you a question?"

Peter turned the TV off and faced me. "Yeah, sure."

"Don't people work on Thursdays? Don't you have to work today?"

He looked a little uncomfortable and I instantly regretted asking it. I did not want him to be embarrassed. I kicked myself; I should have known he would be insulted that I would ask. Once, my Uncle Ben was laid off his job at the can factory and when I asked him about it, he got very angry and said I was disrespecting my elders.

"I'm sorry," I shuffled my feet and looked down. "If you don't want to answer it, it's fine with me…"

"No, no it's fine. I was a hospice nurse, but I quit because I wanted to know more about what was happening with me. About my flying… powers." He told me, not sure what to call his abilities probably.

"What's a hospice nurse?" I asked. Maybe it had to do with hospitals, like he was a nurse that worked there. I wrinkled my nose a little, I was taught that only girls were nurses and boys were doctors. Everything seemed the exact opposite of home here.

Peter said, "A hospice nurse is someone who takes care of the dying. It helps them enjoy their last moments."

I looked at Peter with a new sense of respect. That was so noble, and brave. I could barely be with people who were sick without going crazy. When Grandmother Rose was dying and wanted to say all of her goodbyes to her grandchildren, I stood in the back. I couldn't stand to even look at her.

"That is very kind of you." Was all I could say on the subject.

It seemed enough, and he grinned with pride. He took off the blanket that was resting on the opposite seat cushion of him and threw it on the ground. He patted it, as if welcoming me.

"Do you want to watch some TV with me? There should be some good shows on."

I smiled eagerly and ran to the couch and plopped on it. He gave me a warm knitted blanket and I put it on my lap.

"I think there's a good movie playing on one of the stations. Do you want to see it?"

I eyed him. They had movies on the TV? Seeing movies was always a luxury, and I usually only saw one every other year. Mother would not let me go in drive-ins until I was older. Stacey had just been given to permission to go a few weeks before I left.

"What movie is it?" I asked, my excitement growing.

"I wonder," He tapped his chin meaningfully. "Have you ever heard of a book called _The Lord of the Rings_ or was it out after your time?"

I shrugged. "No, I haven't. I guess it was after." I told him honestly, though the name intrigued me.

This only made Peter's lopsided grin go wider. "Perfect. This movie is based on the books and its really good. It won so many awards. It's kind of long, so get comfortable."

I scooted about in the sofa, until I was completely content. Peter did the same.

He changed the channel and there was the opening. It intrigued me, it was so bright and there were so many people involved in it. The man who played Aragorn I think, was very handsome and I smiled shyly whenever he came on the screen

There were so many advertisements in between the movie though. They had one for, and I still blush whenever I think about it, pads for periods. I looked at Peter to see if he was as shocked as I was about this personal issue being out there for the whole world to see, but he seemed unfazed.

The scariest part of the movie was when the bad guys came. Orcs, I believe they were named. They looked so life like and real, very different than the villains that I saw in the movies back home. I felt myself coming closer and closer to Peter, clutching his arm. He seemed to think my horror was funny and I caught him trying to muffle a laugh.

At the end, Peter turned off the TV and looked at me.

"So," He was grinning eagerly. I was reminded of a little boy at Christmas time waiting to open his gifts. "How did you like it?"

I smiled back. "It was very good. But they just left it like that? What happened to Frodo? What about Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli? Did the rings get destroyed?" The ending answered none of my questions.

Peter waved his hand dismissively. "There are two sequels to this movie. I'll check it out soon if you'd like and you can find out what happens at the end."

"I would. Thanks." Though I was not sure what he meant by 'checking it out' I appreciated that I would get to see the conclusion.

"No problem," He looked like he was about to say something else, but the doorbell rang.

"Pete, open up!" A voice came. Peter's eyes were bigger than plates.

"Beth, my brother is going to come in, okay? I trust him but don't tell him about how you come from the past," He moved a little closer to the door with each words he spoke. "Don't mention Hiro, either," Peter stopped in his tracks and his face looked graver than I had ever seen it. "In fact, just let me do the talking."

I nodded with each request. Peter took his brother out in the hall for a minute or so until I saw them again.

Peter's brother was taller than him and had a bigger build. His face, unlike Peter, was hard and untrusting. I pondered how two people that were so opposite could be related.

"Beth, this is my older brother, Nathan." Peter said, standing behind Nathan. He mouthed an apology to me.

"Hello," I smiled at Nathan, trying to be as kind as possible.

He looked at me with shock and looked at her brother. "You are keeping a little girl here," Nathan said slowly, as if he couldn't believe all this was true. "Because she told you that a man named Hiro who could teleport, said that you would help her save the world."

Peter rubbed his neck and chuckled nervously. "Well, yeah," he pulled Nathan aside and I couldn't hear what they were talking about. I did notice, however, the vein in Nathan's neck popping out and his face grow redder.

"You are going to do what?" Nathan yelled loud enough that I could hear him. I looked down and stayed quiet, trying to keep any outbursts that might come out. I felt that I should be blamed that Nathan was yelling at Peter because of me staying with him. This sweet, sweet guy was just standing there, listening to his brother's harsh words.

"It's not his fault!" I spoke up, my voice coming out surprisingly strong. "I needed some place to stay and Peter was kind enough to let me to stay here. Don't you get it? If Peter doesn't help me, something bad and evil will happen to the world!"

Nathan looked at me with disgust. Peter looked a little weary, never having heard my little temper tantrums, but also smiled timidly.

However, after Peter took a look to Nathan and saw that he was about to explode, he sent me to the bedroom to watch some TV. Before I closed the door, I could faintly hear Nathan shout, "She sleeps in your bedroom?"

I sighed and pressed the big red button on the control that turned on the TV. I changed channels until I found _Rebel without a cause_. I giggled a little; I had a tiny crush on James Dean since I saw this movie the other month.

I looked down to see what station it was and gasped. It was the Classic channel. It was so old, that it was now a classic. It was so surreal, I had only seen it a month ago and now, it was considered old.

I looked at my unchanged child body. If Hiro had not come I would be seventy something. I thought of my brother, who was four years older than me, and my sister who was three years. They might be dead now. I could not stand to think of mother and father, who surely had died from old age, if not something else. But I was still here, young and alive. The guilt felt like a sword stabbing me in my heart.

I continued to watch the movie, but tears fell down my cheeks until I just rested my head on my pillow and closed my eyes. I was not tired, as I had just woken up from a good sleep hours ago, but I did not know what else to do. I waited and waited until Peter came in.

"Hey, Nathan's gone. Do you want to come out now?" He came closer to me, but I just put my head under my pillow. He shook my lightly. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head. "No, Peter I am not." I still kept my head under my pillow.

"What's wrong?" He asked sounding genuinely concerned. "If it's about Nathan, don't listen to him. He can come out stronger than he means to, but he is really a good guy in heart."

"It's not about Nathan." I removed the pillow and he saw my red eyes and the leftover tears that were making a puddle on my cheek.

Peter got a box of Kleenex from his bedside table and handed a tissue to me. "Then what's wrong?"

I sat up straight and wiped the tears on my face and sniffled. "I don't belong here, Peter. I should be so much older than I am now. My parents are dead, my brother and sister are old and it's not fair! It's not fair that I am still young and strong while they are old and weak. It is not fair." I said the last part quietly and I felt embarrassed.

I was supposed to save the world, but here I was crying like a little baby looking for her mother. I was pathetic.

"No, it's not fair," Peter agreed. "But life isn't fair. It is good you came here. I think that it's destiny. Hiro would not have taken you from your home if it wasn't for a good reason."

I wiped more of my tears and blew my nose. "Do you think Hiro might be some kind of villain that is purposefully trying to make my life miserable?" I asked, only half joking.

Peter smiled. "I doubt that an evil villain would go too those great lengths to make a girl sad."

"So do I." I felt my stomach growl loudly and I grew very self-conscious, knowing that even Peter could hear it.

"Are you hungry now?" He asked, although he knew the answer.

I nodded my head. "Can I have some cereal now?"

"Nope."

I was slightly shocked. Was he denying me a meal? "What?"

"We are going to go out to eat. I'll show you New York and buy you some clothes. For now," He got up and gave me the stack of the clothes that I came with. "You will have to wear these."

Taking the clothes from his hands, I shooed him off and got my clothes on. My hair was still a mess and I poked my head from the door.

"Hey, Peter?" I called.

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a brush?"

He laughed heartedly. "Yes, it's in my dresser drawer, the top one on the left." He blew his bangs out of his face.

I looked for it and when I found it, I closed the door. Once, I was done and had put it in a ponytail, I was ready.

Peter was in jeans and in a green t-shirt.

"You ready to go?"

"Yep."

He studied at me, and then met my eyes. "You're a hot dog fan, no?"

"I am," I said sluggishly.

"Good, they have the best hot dogs in the world at this little corner vendor a couple blocks away. You'll love them."

He took my hand and led me out the door.

So, how did you like it? The reason I have been able to update so fast is because I am on vacation, but I have to go back to school Monday. I might be able to only update once a week now, it depends on how much homework I get.

You heard my plea for reviews at the beginning of the chapter, so all I will say is this: Please review.

Chuck Norris isn't afraid of the dark, the dark is afraid of Chuck Norris,

crockergirl


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